


Who You Are in the Dark

by daphnerunning



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-05
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 05:12:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance run-in with Duke leaves Flynn with certain questions for Yuri about what exactly happened on Zaude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Of all the people Flynn might have expected to run into during a visit to the Lower Quarter, Duke was low on the list. Almost nonexistent. So low, in fact, that Flynn would have run out of room and had to start a new list.

Not unwelcome, exactly. The man had helped to save their world, in the end, no matter how it had started. As for the rest…well, they’d all made mistakes. 

The man saw him, changed course to intercept. “Commandant Flynn,” he said, in that shockingly low voice of his. “I had heard you were promoted. The uniform sits well on you.”

“I heard it once sat better on you,” Flynn said, giving him a nod instead of a bow. “I don’t suppose you’ve come back to re-join the Knights? We can use every strong member.”

“I have other duties. Such a fleeting, mortal post…surely the futility of such things does not escape—“

“Can’t hurt to try,” Flynn said hurriedly, cutting off what would almost certainly be a cryptic speech that freaked him out a little. 

“He’s not in.”

“Huh?”

“Yuri Lowell.” Duke cast a glance back at the Inn, shaking his head. “I had thought to keep in contact, but he is not in.”

Flynn scowled, scuffing a toe against the ground. “He’s always off somewhere with that Guild of his lately. Brave Vesperia.” He shook his head, sighing heavily. “You know, he has it in him to really _be_ something. You know, you saw, last year when everything went crazy. He’s so strong, and smart, and good at what he does, but he _never_ thinks that well of himself, and he fakes arrogance so that no one realizes what he’s doing.” He stopped talking abruptly, flushing pink. “Sorry. I’ve heard before that I talk about him too much.”

“A good friend, one that understands your very soul, is far beyond precious.” Eyes that had seen far too much war clouded over, seeing beyond the immediate into the past. An old soldier’s gaze, one that had watched too many friends lowered into the ground. Flynn knew it well.

He’d never seen one so mournful.

“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure to cherish it, sir.” _Cherish him_ , Flynn thought with a smile, then, _if he’ll let me. If he’s ever around_.

“You know how cruel it would be to lose each other. You’ve felt it many times.”

“Yes.”

“Yet you both remain alive, despite all your trials. Precious gifts indeed.”

“We fought for that, sir,” Flynn said with the tiniest hint of reproach. It wasn’t as though they’d been entirely passive participants in the war, after all.

“And will continue to fight, no doubt. It is in the nature of such men.” Duke smoothed his hair back from his face, then retrieved a small bottle from his pocket. “Give this to him. Tell him it’s for when the wound troubles him on cold nights.”

“Wound?”

“Scar, by now, but there is always pain when seawater has seeped into the flesh, something I’ve found no gel can ease. I gave him some when I left him here, but I see he’s run out.”

“You….when did you leave him here?”

“After Zaude.” Duke tilted his head to the side, searching Flynn too thoroughly for the Knight’s comfort. “Ah,” he said after a moment. “You were not told. My apologies. It seems that protecting each other runs far deeper than throwing yourselves in front of blades. Perhaps there is fidelity yet in the race of humanity.”

He turned and walked away, so purposeful despite his slow speed that Flynn found himself unable to stop the older man, just watch him leave and then wonder where he’d gone, leaving no trace of his presence but the echoing words in Flynn’s head.


	2. Chapter 2

It was nearly three months before Flynn saw Yuri again, conflicting schedules and duties being what they were. The rain was cold, almost brutal in its intensity, making the roads unsafe for travel when Flynn staggered into a tavern inn in Danghrest.

Soaked through, wiping the water from his eyes, it took Flynn a moment to notice anything in the room, a handicap the patrons didn’t share. 

“Well, look what the storm blew in.”

Flynn froze for a second, then looked up into the easy, carefree grin of his oldest friend. Gods, but it was nice to see Yuri smiling like that, after everything. “Yuri! What are you doing here?”

“This is Guild territory, my friend,” Yuri pointed out, guiding Flynn over to his table with a lingering hand on his back. “What’s the Commandant doing here?”

“Caught by the storm,” Flynn admitted, leaning into the warmth from Yuri’s hand for probably longer than he should have, in public. “I was doing inspections just north of here, and…” He trailed off, aware that certain things like troop inspections shouldn’t be mentioned in taverns in Danghrest, of all places. “Do you have a room? Can we go there?”

“You used to buy me a drink first,” Yuri grumbled, but he was still smiling, even if it had changed to something warmer, darker at those words.

Well. Flynn hadn’t _meant_ it like that, but if that was what Yuri wanted…

The second the door was unlocked, even before it was _open_ , Flynn buried his face in the juncture of Yuri’s neck and shoulder, kissing, nibbling on the soft flesh, and Yuri gasped, rocking back against Flynn’s body. “Shit,” he swore, fumbling with the doorknob, “you’re really hard up for me, huh?”

Flynn’s hand closed over his, getting the damn door open, hands already running over Yuri’s torso, his chest, down to his hips and squeezing. “Yeah. Been a while.”

Yuri paused long enough to kick the door shut, then turned and attacked Flynn’s mouth with his own, deep hungry kisses that left Flynn in little doubt that he felt the same way. Yuri’s kisses were always good at that, always tasted a little of wine and freedom and the past, always felt like a promise. 

_I wonder if they taste that way to everyone, or just me?_

He wasn’t wearing full armor, not for the traveling he’d been doing, but Yuri stripped him of what he had on in record time—not a record for Yuri, who was good at setting that kind of record, but close enough right now. Flynn had an easier time of it, yanking soft cloth out of Yuri’s belt, stripping him quickly, not having to worry about armor in the way, and then it was just soft skin and muscled flesh and the crackling heat that always surrounded them when it got this far.

“Better in a room, huh?” Yuri breathed between kisses, sliding his thigh between Flynn’s, rubbing deliberately against his cock. 

“I don’t know, you liked it last time well enough.”

“Yeah, but it took me forever to get those grass stains out.”

“ _You_ were the impatient one.”

Yuri shoved him down to the bed, crawling on top of him, wrapping one hand around Flynn’s cock, and Flynn shuddered. “Now, we both know that’s not true.”

Flynn licked his lips, eyes wandering down Yuri’s body, hands reaching up to fist in his silky hair. “Other way this time.”

Yuri hesitated for a fraction of a second, then twisted around to grab a little bottle of oil off the dresser. “You’d be surprised what they sell in Danghrest,” he said, almost casually as he slicked up his fingers, then reached behind himself and pushed them inside. “Nn—you can…buy almost anything.”

Flynn watched, transfixed, as Yuri fingered himself open, cock achingly hard at the idea of how _good_ it was going to be, at just how much he wanted to be buried in the other man, to hear him beg and moan. “Yeah?” he asked, not entirely sure what the question was, or what he was asking. 

“Yeah. Lots better than the gels we used to use. Here, s-see for yourself.” 

“Yuri—wait, you always go too fast, you’re going to hurt yours— _ohh_.”

Yuri bit his lip, hands braced on Flynn’s chest, thighs quivering with tension as he lowered himself down, tight heat almost painfully good around Flynn’s cock. He reached up and grabbed Yuri’s hips, steadying him, trying not to bruise as his fingers sank deep, but Yuri’s skin was so soft, and he felt _perfect_ clenching around him, those little pleading noises coming out of his mouth. He rocked back onto his knees, taking Flynn deeper, groaning softly.

And he was right—whatever that oil was, it was a damned sight better than the gels they usually used. Instead of being tingling and a little viscous, everything was perfectly slick and easy, his cock sliding in as if it were made to go there, the only sensation the tight spasms of Yuri around him as he bucked up. 

Yuri hissed at a particularly brutal thrust, and Flynn would have apologized if Yuri hadn’t slammed himself down, taking even more. “F-fuck, Flynn—yeah, that’s it, just like that, fuck me.”

Flynn’s fingers tightened and he knew there’d be bruises on Yuri’s hips the next day, as he thrust up hard, fast, setting a savage, hungry pace. “Don’t give me orders. I outrank you.”

Yuri laughed, ragged breaths hitching as he tossed his head back. “Titles don’t mean a thing in Danghrest, _Commandant_. You don’t outrank shit. You— _fuck_ , Flynn!”

Flynn bit back a loud moan, yanking Yuri down to hold him tightly in place, hips jerking faster, everything too hot, too slick, too good to last. “Someone’s gonna hear you if you keep being that loud,” he growled, fingers tangling in Yuri’s hair, yanking him up for a kiss that was more teeth than tongues. 

Yuri panted against his mouth, face flushed, cock throbbing, aching between them. His eyes were dark and wild as he arched back, straining always to get _more_ , to take more than he could, eyes fluttering half-shut. “Then give ‘em something to hear. I’m gonna—“

“Do it.” Flynn reached between them, wrapped a hand around Yuri’s cock and stroked hard and fast, twisting his hand at the end _exactly_ how Yuri liked it. It took ten seconds, no more, and Yuri was arching, gasping, mouth open in a rictus of ecstasy as he came hard into Flynn’s hand, clenching, spasming around him.

It was too much, too good, too fast, too _perfect_ to be inside Yuri again after all this time, to feel him bucking, shuddering because Flynn had taken him so well. Flynn let out a hoarse cry, not even bothering to keep himself quiet, because hell, was it even _possible_ to stay quiet while fucking Yuri Lowell? He buried himself deep with three sharp snaps of his hips, finishing hard, as Yuri writhed on top of him, around him, soft urgent pleading noises wringing every last drop from him.

It took long moments, punctuated only by the heaving gasps of the two men and the pattering of rain onto the window, for either of them to recover enough to move. 

It was even longer before Flynn worked up the energy to trail his hand along Yuri’s side, his stomach, his thigh, caressing--but also searching, and he paused when he found what he was looking for.

Yuri squirmed, turning onto his stomach. “Knock it off. That tickles.”

“What is it?”

“My stomach, O Wise One.”

“Yuri--”

“What? I have a lot of scars. You do too.”

“Where’s this one from?”

Yuri shifted, tossing his head so his hair hit Flynn in the face. “I don’t know. The war.”

“Stop it.”

“What?”

“Avoiding.” Flynn moved quickly, flipping Yuri onto his back and holding him there, no matter how much he squirmed. He had enough time to get a good look at the scar, just before Yuri’s knee collided with his stomach.

The struggle was brief, angry, intense before they finally broke apart, panting for breath in a completely different way. Yuri looked annoyed more than anything, but Flynn was furious. 

“Why do you care, anyway?” Yuri snapped, grabbing his shirt and yanking it on. “Like I said, I’ve got a lot of scars.”

“Because you’ve never tried to hide them from me before! What was it?”

“I don’t remember.”

 _“Liar_.”

“It doesn’t matter!”

Flynn glared at him, then folded his arms. “Fine. I only wanted to hear it from you. I already know.”

“Now you’re lying.”

“Duke told me.”

For a split-second, Yuri wavered. If Flynn hadn’t known him as well as he did, known him since before Yuri was a great liar, he never would have caught it. 

Flynn slammed his fist against the wall, a poor substitute for Yuri’s face, but infinitely easier to apologize for afterwards. “Why didn’t you tell me after Zaude? Don’t you think I deserved to know?”

“Because you’d just gotten betrayed by your idol!” Yuri shot back, an angry flush on his face now. “I thought you deserved to have someone around you who wouldn’t stab you in the back, even if she _did_ stab me in the front.”

A second’s pause, and Yuri swore. “Shit. You _didn’t_ know.”

“ _Sodia??_ ”

“You’re a liar.”

“And you’re one for keeping this from me!” Sodia. _Sodia?_ Really? He’d known she didn’t _like_ Yuri, had advised Flynn against being friends with him, but...suddenly, her behavior after Zaude made more sense. He’d thought she was upset because of the hit he’d taken from the laser, or maybe on his behalf because he was so sick with worry for Yuri. 

Yuri scratched the back of his head, looking uncomfortable. “It was a long time ago.”

“So what,” Flynn shot, furious now, “you just forgave her?”

“No! Just--”

“Just _what_ , Yuri?”

“It’s not your problem!”

Whether it was because he was looking down at the floorboards or because he just didn’t see it coming, Yuri failed spectacularly to avoid Flynn’s fist. He fell back, hand to his face, before shooting to his feet again, hand balling at his side. “You want to fight? Let me get my sword.”

“What I _want_ is to make you see _reason_ , you idiot!” Flynn’s blue eyes blazed, his knuckles stinging from their ungentle contact with Yuri’s cheekbones. “You can’t--you can’t think that I might _care_ that my second in command stabbed my best friend?”

“And threw me off a cliff,” Yuri added sourly, rubbing his face. When that did less than nothing to calm Flynn down, he sighed. “Things were really bad back then, okay? You needed everyone loyal to you that you could get.”

“That’s not your decision! She--damn it, Yuri, if she’s making decisions for me about who I can and can’t be friends with, do you _really_ call that loyal? What if--damn it, if you hadn’t been there, we’d all have died!”

Yuri still wouldn’t meet his eyes, preferring to focus on something out the window. “Yeah, well, I made a call.”

“And after everything was over?”

Yuri shifted, annoyed, and actually turned to leave the room. Flynn grabbed him, hard by the shoulder and slammed him into the wall. “You’re _still_ doing that! Even now? Even _now_ you don’t think you’re worth a little _effort_ on my part?”

“You have enough to worry--”

Flynn shut him up, pressing a hard, demanding kiss to his lips, hands digging bruisingly hard into his shoulders. He could feel the tension, the coiled desire to spring, to strike, to escape, to fight. “I will if you want,” he gasped out, breaking away from the kiss to press their foreheads together. “I’ll fight you if it’ll make you feel better, you crazy man. But that’s not really how I want to spend my only night in Danghrest.”

Long dark lashes swept up, and a rueful smile spread across Yuri’s face. “One night, huh?”

“Sadly.”

“Well,” Yuri said slowly, giving a hard shove that broke Flynn’s grip on his arms, “I’d _hate_ for you to be thinking about court-martials and finding new lieutenants all night.”

With that look in Yuri’s eyes, Flynn doubted he’d be thinking at all.


	3. Chapter 3

The knife glinted brightly in the morning light, reflecting the gently flickering sunlight on the waves. A freshly-shorn braid lay on the ground, next to a neatly-folded military uniform. The woman kneeling on the ground didn’t look up at the sound of footsteps, but her voice shook a little as she said, “You came.”

“You asked.”

“I’m sorry.”

Flynn closed his eyes, trying not to think of all the times he’d fought beside her, how many times he’d trusted her with his back and been rewarded with loyalty. “No, you aren’t. You’re sorry for how it ended. You’re not sorry you did it.”

She clenched her hands, but didn’t respond. He knew there was no response to make. If she were truly regretful, she’d have done something to atone for it in the last year.

He looked down at the folded clothes, the knife. “You shouldn’t. I told you I’ll recommend you to another regiment.”

“I don’t want to serve if I’m not under you, sir.”

“Sodia--”

“Will you be my second?”

He looked down at her, at the tear stains on her cheeks, at the way her hands shook on the handle of the knife. For a moment, his stomach clenched, thinking of the brave girl he’d known, the one who never backed down from a fight.

Then, the scar on Yuri’s stomach, the fire in her eyes when she’d said in front of the tribunal, “I did what I felt was necessary. And I’d do it again.”

And the thought that even after she’d tried to kill him, after she was supposedly “sorry,” she’d still told Flynn not to trust him.

He took the knife from her hand, pitched it out into the lake. “No,” he said coldly, watching the tiny splash as it sank under the gentle waves. “Go home, Sodia. Become a farmer or something. There’s no place for you on a list of the dead.”

She looked more stricken at that than when he’d taken her rank.

He’d never know what she looked like when he turned and left her there, kneeling on the precipice. 

 


End file.
